


of mullets and hawaiian shirts

by novocaine_sea



Series: quarantine and chill [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Kissing, Konoha is the master of seduction, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Quarantine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25287949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novocaine_sea/pseuds/novocaine_sea
Summary: Konoha is sure about two things:1. Hawaiian shirts are the ugliest piece of fashion to ever exist. If it can even be called fashion.2. If he has to stare at that haircut for five more minutes he’s going to die.
Relationships: Konoha Akinori/Semi Eita
Series: quarantine and chill [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1832002
Comments: 10
Kudos: 40





	of mullets and hawaiian shirts

**Author's Note:**

> Now that COVID is canon, I'm doing a quarantine series. Not just of KonoSemi, but with a bunch of ships i like :) but i had to start with them because why not.

Being stuck inside all day with his boyfriend is fine. Back in college this is what they’d do anyway, on the weekends at least. They’d sit on the couch in their apartment (or pushed their beds together back in the dorms) and shared their personal bubbles for forty-eight hours, only parting for the essentials. But now? Akinori is finding it a little much. Eita is clingy at best, always needing fused to his hip. Akinori had been going to work until he’d been possibly exposed to the virus, so now he’s forced to stay home.

And Eita is making it difficult.

Akinori walks out of their bedroom that morning, the apartment smelling of coffee and tea as it usually does. Eita had made a spread of breakfast, all laid out on the table. A tired smile graces Akinori’s face; moments like these, ones of thoughtfulness, are ones that Akinori looks forward to. Eita goes out of his way to make sure Akinori is taken care of and he loves that.

His eyes follow the trail of food from the table to the kitchen, where Eita is standing at the counter pouring him a mug of tea. The smile is wiped off Akinori’s face in that instant. 

For some reason, Eita is fully dressed. Tight black jeans ripped from ankle to waist are molded to his legs and god Akinori wishes it stopped there. Framing the top half of his boyfriend is possibly the world’s ugliest shirt. It’s... vibrant, to put it lightly. A flash of yellow and purple and orange and green. Colors that when mixed together will create a dirt brown color. There’s flowers, all different kinds overlaid together all over the place. Akinori almost turns back around; if Eita doesn’t see him then he can pretend he’s still asleep and maybe, just maybe Eita will think about changing.

“Hey!” Eita greets him, warm and loving as always, turning to face him. God the shirt is open, exposing his bare, toned chest. Since he’s been home, Eita’s been doing light workouts on their living room floor and Akinori has to clench his legs together while he watches from the corner of the couch. 

“Hi... did you go somewhere?” Akinori asks suspiciously. He doesn’t even want to kiss him. He tries to focus on the abs that are coming in, the v-line into the waist of his pants, anything but the colors attacking and burning his irises. But it’s hard. Because if he keeps going up, it gets worse. Eita’s face is so beautiful and Akinori usually could stare at him for hours on end, mapping out every line of skin with his eyes, followed by his lips. But he catches the wisps of hair that flare at the nap of Eita’s neck into a perfect mullet. Eita’s been quarantined for a lot longer than he has; he’s been away from the barbers and a pair of scissors for way too long. Akinori’s own hair has grown out a bit, resembling half of what it’d been in high school, but it’s not as terrible as Eita’s. Akinori isn’t sure which is worse though, the mullet or the shirt. 

“No? No place is open!” Eita laughs, as if he’s not committing a sin right now with his aesthetic. Akinori has tried for  _ years _ to get him new clothes. And Eita appeases him, wears them for a few cycles before they mysteriously end up at the bottom of their drawers before the ripped jeans and the leather and the obnoxious colors pounce again.

“So then why are you dressed?”

Eita looks down at himself and then shrugs, “I just felt like it? Is that okay with you?”

Akinori wants to say no. It’s riding the tip of his tongue, just on the very edge of slipping through. But he refrains. He’s not going to start a fight today. (Their close proximity the past week or so had definitely made their relationship more quarrelsome, each other’s little quirks that they don’t often see for extended periods of time making themselves known.)

“... It’s a choice,” Akinori says and he sits down at the table, avoiding how Eita had leaned forward to give him a kiss. He doesn’t miss the pout on his boyfriend’s face as Eita plops into the seat across from him after setting the mugs down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” chirps Akinori and he spoons some eggs onto his plate, shoving them into his mouth, “S’good!”

Eita’s nose screws up when a couple of egg chunks fly from Akinori’s mouth and onto the table. “Looks like you’re enjoying it. The table knows it too.” 

Akinori sends a tight-lipped smile his way. It’s going to be a long day. The passive aggressions have already begun and it’s not even ten AM.

Now, let it be known that they love each other very much. Akinori could wax poetics about Eita all day long, and Eita does the same, except in song. Akinori just likes his space and Eita enjoys the lack of it. Every particle of their beings needs to be pressed together at all times. Akinori would think with how much they have sex (and really, it’s  _ a lot _ ; their libidos have not died down since their first year of university), Eita doesn’t need that much physical interaction. But no. He does. And it’s annoying.

Luckily Akinori is able to get some alone time by locking himself in the bedroom and doing his work. He hears careful strums coming from the other side of the closed door and it makes him smile, the tune light and cheery, much like Eita’s mood had been that morning. But then the image of that god forsaken shirt comes to mind and Akinori scowls, shutting his laptop. He knows that Eita is sitting out there, buttons undone and trying to get his attention. If he was horny it would work but right now, he needs to find a way to burn those shirts. Eita has multiple, but Akinori will start with that one. 

Well, maybe he can use Eita’s underlying horniness to his advantage.

Akinori fluffs up his hair a bit before he saunters into the living room, sweater hanging off his shoulder a bit. Eita glances over at him, takes in his bare, long legs and he smiles to himself before glancing down at his guitar.

“What’re you working on?” Akinori asks, tucking his legs under him as he sits on the couch beneath him. Eita immediately leans towards him, seeking his warmth as he typically does.

“Just something new. Finding riffs I like and all that...” His eyes no longer lie on the guitar and are instead traveling up towards Akinori’s face, where he finds a sweet and innocent smile, something deep and mischievous in golden eyes.

“Mm, sounds riveting...” Akinori reaches for him and the guitar is laid against the couch, making room for Akinori to crawl into his lap. Eita is completely transfixed when Akinori presses their lips together and the latter suppresses a smirk; his plan has all but fallen perfectly into place and he couldn’t have asked for anything better. Their lips smack together as the two of them enjoy the familiarity of each other, Akinori’s hands beginning to work the shirt off Eita’s shoulders. He’s oddly nervous but is hoping that Eita is excited enough to not notice him vaulting the shirt over the back of the couch once it’s fully off.

Unfortunately, Eita is too protective of his Hawaiian monstrosity and he pulls away from Akinori with a pout, “Hey, you’re going to get it all dusty if you throw it back there.” He twists so he’s bending over the back of the couch and Akinori clumsily slips from his lip, watching in dismay as the shirt is fished from the back of the couch. 

“Why do you even wear those things? They’re horrible.”

Eita’s pout gets more and more dramatic and Akinori rolls his eyes. “Horrible? These are awesome!”

“Well I can’t stand when you wear them. They’re an eyesore.”

“You know, they make me happy, I don’t care when  _ you _ wear ugly clothes!”

_ Ah, so he knows he wears ugly clothes...  _ “And when do I wear ugly clothes?”

Eita’s jaw snaps shut and he looks to Akinori’s face, then the wall past him, then the floor, the ceiling, the window. Akinori nods, waiting a long while for Eita to come up with an answer. “Exactly.”

“Still... These make me happy, I like the way they look on me, and-”

“You like the way anything looks on you,” Akinori points out and Eita glares at him.

“That doesn’t matter! I like these and I’m going to wear them, you’re not the one wearing them so you don’t get a say.” He grabs his guitar but makes no attempt to put the shirt on for now. Akinori wants to argue more but he can see there’s genuine hurt etched onto Eita’s face. He probably shouldn’t have tried to change the way he dresses, but he wants to help Eita dress  _ better _ . That’s all.

“Fine. But... will you at least let me give you a haircut? Please?” 

Eita’s eyes narrow, “Why?”

“It’s getting a little long, and you look hot as always babe but seriously. It’s time for a trim. Mine is getting long too, we can trade.” He’s not sure he wants Eita and a pair of scissors so close to his face but he’ll live if Eita lets him give him a trim. 

Eita stares at him, assessing. Akinori can practically see the wheels turning in his head trying to find an ulterior motive. Akinori hadn’t said anything outright insulting, keeping his opinion on mullets time himself. Finally, Eita shrugs, “Sure. But I’m keeping the Hawaiian shirt.”

Akinori grimaces. It’s fine. One of the two can go. He can live with that. At least the shirts can be taken off and aren’t as permanent as hair. He hops off the couch to grab a pair of scissors, calling Eita into the bathroom.

“We’re doing this now?” Eita’s voice grows closer and he stops in the doorway, “A little impatient now, yeah?”

“Better sooner than later, right?” Akinori smiles sweetly and Eita practically melts. He knows how much willpower it had taken Eita to fight back before, so now he’s compliant. The plan is back on course and Akinori can rest easy knowing the mullet will be gone. He’d pulled a stool into the bathroom and filled their spray bottle with water, wetting Eita’s hair in the back. 

“I’m just going to make it even.”

“Yeah, don’t fuck up my hair please.” 

Akinori whacks his bare shoulder for that and Eita snickers. Akinori grumbles something about being practiced before he takes a deep breath and actually brings the scissors to clip his hair. When the first bunch is off he’s pleased, knowing he will be freed from the mullet with just a few snips. And hey, if it’s a little bit lopsided, well, Eita loves things that aren’t in style. He’ll probably enjoy having a unique style. And it’s not like they’re leaving for anybody to see it anyway. 

Their bathroom floor is littered with pieces of dyed blonde hair and Akinori takes a step back to admire his work, mussing with the back of Eita’s hair as loose strands fall out, “How’d I do?” He bites his lip, looking to Eita’s reflection. Eita leans forward to assess, running his fingers through his now shortened hair, resembling how it had been in high school. He stands up and plants a kiss on Akinori’s lips.

“Not bad. Kind of sucks now that you won’t have much to grab onto, but you did well.” He grins and Akinori’s mouth falls open, a flush spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears and down his neck.

“You-!” He places the scissors in Eita’s outstretched hands, his laughter echoing over the buzzing of words filtered through Akinori’s mind. He sits down on the chair heavily and crosses his arms over his chest. 

Eita wins this round, but with the mullet gone and the Hawaiian shirt forgotten in the living room, Akinori wins the series.

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/novocaine_sea)


End file.
